Lichen
by jelispar
Summary: Chapter 4 up. Bobby & Claud, explaination of John, Anna revealed, and brief Hank spotlight. Rating has jumped because I just realized I can't do this without some language and graphic content
1. Mulligan's

Hank McCoy sighed as he walked through the glass tunnel that connected the Marriott Hotel to the rest of Copley Place, hoping against hope that he would be able to catch a train to Providence. From there it was only a short trip to TF Green Airport for his short flight back to LaGuardia and then home. He shrugged on his overcoat, brushing dust from his suit. He watched as mothers hurried their children past him, trying to ignore what they were dying to stop and stare at. _Granted, _he thought to himself, _it is not every day that one witnesses a blue gorilla walking around in a gray business suit as if he were human. _The thought made McCoy, also known as a medical genius, cringe. Normally it was difficult to get Henry McCoy, the Beast, down; especially after he had visited a national medical conference specifically on mutants. Unfortunately the conference had not gone well. _The conference may have been about mutants, but I was certainly the only one in attendance. _Hank thought back to the looks he received from his "peers" as he stood at the podium presenting his research, and his success. _Perhaps it is the fact that I have succeeded where they have failed. I have managed to find a cure to the Legacy virus._ His mind drifted momentarily back to Piotr. _For a price_, he added. _Yet when I hand over this startlingly wonderful news they sit there as still and silent as when I stood to introduce myself in the first place. 'Look at the trained monkey' is printed all over their faces as I give to them what I have spent years, literally, working for._

Hank would have continued to sink into his dark reverie while he headed toward the Back Bay station tunnel if it hadn't been for a tug on his coat sleeve. Startled, Hank looked to his right, then down, his eyes finally focusing on the sickly face of a child. "Dr. McCoy?" She asked sheepishly, hope flashing in her large blue eyes. He nodded silently, taking in the sight of her. Undernourished didn't even begin to describe the girl before him. She seemed to be barely four feet tall, reaching just past Hank's elbow. Her clothes, though thick and warm for the winter weather, hung off of her as if she were nothing more than stick figure. Her cheekbones were very prominent in her narrow, sharp face. Even her skin seemed unhealthy, an unnatural green pallor covered her, giving a sickly sheen to her complexion. The only healthy attribute she seemed to own was her luxurious thick brown hair that hung in wild waves and curls around her face and down her back. All of this, Hank took in as she stood in front of him, gathering her courage. "I need your help Dr. McCoy." She said sheepishly.

Hank looked longingly down the mall causeway to the escalator that would take him part of the way home, then looked back to the child before him. For a second time that day Hank McCoy let out a deep sigh. Then scared that this reaction might scare the child off, Hank smiled and offered the girl his hand, leading her out the door onto the streets of Boston and towards the only coffee shop he knew of in the city. _If she is even half as sick as she looks, _Hank thought, _then she is in desperate need of my help._

* * * * *

Mulligan's was quiet as usual. Oxygen bars seemed to be the new thing in Boston, which meant that the once ultra-popular coffee shop was now a quiet shelter to those caffeine addicts who had been visiting the establishment since before pop culture invaded. Bobby, of all people, was the person who had gotten Hank addicted to the mocha au lait, leaving Hank to find a coffee shop in every major city in the world which could provide him with this fix. Set up like most coffee shops in New York, Mulligan's was dimly lit with multiple nooks where visitors could sit undisturbed with their coffee and newspaper. However, the center of the shop was recessed and filled with colorful cushions where the local teens could "chill" while sipping on their expresso decafs and hazelnut chillers.

Hank wasn't exactly sure if a smoke filled coffee shop was the place to bring a sick child, but this delay in his departure caused a chocolate craving that needed to be quelled. Hank also wasn't sure if he had been seeing things on the quick walk over, or if the girl's skin had actually gotten greener. However in the shops lighting he saw that it was still the same pale green tint as he had seen in the mall. Deciding that a booth would be more private to discuss medical matters, Hank led the girl toward the back of the shop. She hesitated for a moment at the door, but obediently allowed herself to be dragged into the shop interior afterward.

The girl sat quietly across from him as the waitress came over to their table. Hank had always marveled at having a waitress in a coffee shop, but on days like this it was a nice bonus not to have to wait on himself. The doctor ordered himself a tall mocha au lait and then looked over at the girl across from him. "And I believe my friend here would like…"

She cut him off before he could even finish the thought. "I'll have a hazelnut slider, whip cream, extra cinnamon." She cocked her head to the side for a second before adding, "make it a tall today, Olivia."

To Hanks even greater shock the waitress giggled. "Starting early today Annie?"

This "girl" just shook her head. "You have no idea." She stated exaggeratedly.

"In that case," the waitress stated, "I'll make sure to get you some extra whip cream too. You know Jack, he's so stingy." And with that the waitress pivoted and made her way back to the counter.

Dr. McCoy was still trying to shake his baffled head to make out exactly what had happened when the "child" before him smiled and let her story come spilling out. "I'm nineteen you know. I realize I look like I'm seven, but I'm nineteen." Then as if to emphasize this point added, "I'm a sophomore in college. Anna Metford." She stated, holding out her still gloved hand to the befuddled Beast. "Here's the deal Dr. McCoy," she said, sipping on her coffee that had now materialized in front of her. "I'm a mutant, obviously. What I do, that's a little more complicated, and I'd rather not get into it all today. The point is there are people after me, government people. I don't know why, and I don't want to know." She reached for a cinnamon bun that, in his shock Hank hadn't even realized were there. "I know about your other career Dr. McCoy. Simply, I need you to take me with you. If the government gets ahold of me it could be bad for more than just myself."

Finally able to think Hank stared at the girl for a few seconds before figuring out what to say in response. "I'm sorry Ms. Metford." He stated, standing and slowly redonning his overcoat, even if I had the authority to do that I can't protect you from who is looking for you." To his surprise, Anna reached up and pushed him back into his seat with more force than he thought her slight frame was capable of generating. She looked about to say something to him when a couple of men on the other side of the shop caught her attention. Swearing under her breath, Anna made a hasty retreat onto the street, the two men following less than a minute after.

Hank still sat there taking all this information in when the waitress appeared at the table with a slight frown marring what could otherwise have been slightly attractive features. "Anna had to beat it again huh?" She said shrugging toward the now empty seat. Hank nodded. "You gonna help her out?" The waitress asked. Hank looked at her curiously. "Look, it's no secret around here that Anna's a mutant. But some of the wrong people found out. She's been on the run ever since, and while it would be wicked awesome for her if some of us could help her out, we're normal humans. I don't know nothing about mutant organizations, or whatever you people do to get together. Anna needs one of you to help her, a mutant."

Hank looked up at Olivia with curiosity. "Did Anna tell you why they were looking for her?"

Olivia shook her head and popped her gum. "Nah-uh, she wouldn't tell us, said she didn't want to get us into trouble too." She shook her head again and grabbed the plate holding the half-eaten cinnamon bun. "Such a sweet kid." With that Olivia walked to the counter and Hank headed back toward the train station, his mind playing ping-pong with this new information. One thing was clear, if he could help this girl Hank was now sure he would. There was only one problem, finding her again.


	2. Protest Corner

Scott tapped his pen against the polished wood of the Professor's desk while he listened to Hank describe in detail what had happened in Boston. Scott being the fearless leader, would never have let the rest of the team know that these debriefings truly bored him to no end. While people like Gambit may be convinced that the pen tapping was a torture device designed to keep the attention of unwilling audiences, in fact it was focusing on the repetitive tapping that was what allowed Scott to stay awake through most of these things. It was even worse listening to Hank ramble on in all his scientific jargon about what was discussed at the convention, with the Professor sitting there smiling, nodding, and even venturing to ask intelligent questions. _How he can even understand half this stuff is beyond me_ Scott caught himself thinking as he stopped tapping and began trying to remember what Hank had said before the Professor instructed him to "write that down." _I'm sure Hank took plenty of notes, why should I take notes on his notes._ But as Scott learned, you didn't become leader by questioning the man in charge on trivial things. Laboriously Scott scribbled down something about **X-Factor chromosome: minor**, then went back to tapping his pen. In fact in his head he was so busy tap-tapping out _My Cherona_ that he almost didn't hear when Hank said:

"Something else happened in Boston that I think you should both know about." Scott barely caught the end of the statement, but it was enough to wake him out of his reverie and pay attention to exactly what Hank was saying for the first time since he'd sat down.

The Professor nodded, encouraging Hank to speak on and Cyclops poised himself with a fresh sheet of paper to begin taking notes on. "I was confronted." Hank stated plainly. "Truthfully, for once I am at a loss for words as to how to explain to you what exactly took place. A young woman, whom I mistook for a young child confronted me en route to the train station. Later on in our ensuing discourse I was informed that she was in fact nineteen, not the nine or ten years that I had originally assigned to her. She disclosed to me that she was a mutant, but did not feel confident to explain her talents. The most interesting thing she said, however, was that she was being stalked by governmental agents for a purpose on which she was not entirely clear. She did make it plain that this was not a good thing, and proceeded to leave the establishment we were visiting when she noticed that she had caught the interest of two gentlemen entering the shop. The girl, Anna Metford was her name, bid a hasty retreat with these men close on her tail." Hank shook his head. "She wanted our help Professor."

Scott and Xavier looked at each other before Scott slowly began to respond. "Hank," Scott said, pondering his next statement, "I know you're concerned. Truth, it doesn't look good for this girl, whoever she is." Hank started to open his mouth to respond, but Scott cut him off. "Contrary to what some people believe," Scott answered his unspoken question with visions of cajuns dancing through his head, "the mansion is not a safe haven for fugitives from the law." Hank opened his mouth to protest, but Scott cut him off. "I know you don't think that's what's going on here Hank, but I think it would be best if we try and get some more information here instead of wandering in blindly. What would you suggest Professor?" Scott asked, turning his entire focus to the man sitting at the head of the table in an alien hovercraft.

"I think you would be correct Scott." Charles Xavier steepled his hands in front of his face as he pondered this new development. "I will contact Valerie Jones, Hank." He said, turning to leave the room. "In the mean time I suggest we find out all we can about this girl." With that he left and the meeting was officially over.

* * * * *

Anna ducked into her dorm room just in time to avoid what she and her roommate had dubbed the "FOH parade." The school's Friends of Humanity Club's newest recruits hooted and hollered their way downstairs to the large study lounge, banging on doors as they passed. She shivered as they pounded on her door, then turned the corner to thunder their way down the stairs. Her roommate, Claudia, sat on her bunk facing the door. White face powder was marred with tear tracks that ran down her face with veins of black eyeliner. Blue highlights frizzed and clumped together with the pink until her hair looked like a rejected clown wig. One shoe was off, and god only knew where it was hiding or if she even still had it. The fishnets were torn to the point that there was more hole than there was material covering her legs. She looked pathetic. Worst of all, though, was the brand new leather miniskirt that had cost eighty dollars smeared with mud and water stained so badly it looked like it was supposed to be brown instead of black.

Claudia was a mutant too, as far as Anna knew all Claudia could do was create these little black orbs that would dance around the room then blink out of existence without really doing anything. She had what Anna thought of as a party trick mutation, something that was pretty impressive, but wasn't useful. The university had assigned them to each other at the start of freshmen year: two mutants, same major, good enough for the bigwigs who were in charge of running the school. The UMCF, United Mutant College Fund, was paying for Claudia's education.

Right now Claudia sat there whimpering pathetically. "You went there again didn't you?" Anna asked emotionlessly, hanging her jacket up inside her closet. Once it was on the peg she turned and looked at the girl two years older than she was, old enough to know better. "Come on," Anna sighed, grabbing Claudia by the arm and lifting her to her feet. "Let's get you cleaned up." It was an interesting combination, Claudia's fear mixed with Anna's indifference, but somehow the FOH just didn't seem so scary when you were being stalked by the United States government.

Claud had a friend who worked with Amnesty International, who was constantly at the new Protest Corner of the Common speaking against anything and everything. She'd tried to warn Claud that Protest Corner was FOH territory and to stay away, but for some reason the idea just didn't seem to click. Almost once a week now Claudia went down there and would get hurt or attacked and come back to the dorm a complete mess waiting for Anna to tell her that everything was okay. It had taken Anna a month to really get the rumor going that Claudia was on drugs. It was bad enough that Anna's mutation was obvious she didn't want everybody to know why Claudia was really getting all messed up all the time. Mutie lovers took a lot of crap, but not like mutants did and it was better for Claud this way.

It took a good ten minutes to get the hair untangled, the make up cleaned up, and the fishnets in the trash. Now Anna sat in the middle of the floor trying to figure out what to do with the skirt. The more she looked the more unsalvageable it seemed, but Claudia was so upset that Anna didn't want to break the news to her. Finally she just shrugged and tossed the skirt in the laundry pile to deal with later. "Why?" She finally asked the girl laying on the bed across from her. She really liked Claudia, but sometimes it was just so hard to understand the girl.

Claudia shrugged and stretched herself out a little more along her body pillow. "We were talking about mutant rights, we want mutant sufferage." She rolled over and just lay there.

In a way Anna could understand, it was frustrating not to have any say in the government. Congress' new pet theory was that the Constitution does not supply the right to vote to nonhumans, and technically mutants are not homosapiens and therefore are not humans. What had finally won the vote entirely over to revoke mutant voting rights was the day good ole Strom Thurman brought a skunk into the Senate chamber and said "He ain't a human, we gonna let him vote too!" It was ridiculous, but stranger things had passed through Congress before. "Can't you demonstrate someplace else?" Anna pleaded to the girl's back.

"Tried." Claudia mumbled into her pillow, "cops kicked us off the State House steps, campus cops kicked us off campus. Protest corner's the only place the pigs let us demonstrate." She sat up and looked Anna in the eyes for the first time that night. "The FOH might harass us, but at least we're there, we're fighting!" Then she slumped back down onto her bed. "You should come sometime Annie, instead of just sitting there and taking it."

The thought made her want to rebel and cringe and hide at the same time. "You know I can't." She answered after a moment of internal debate. "Someone might touch me, and then I'd kill 'em and the whole place'd erupt." _Or the Feds'd see me and it would be all over_ she added silently.

Claudia shrugged and turned back toward the wall. "G'night Annie."

"Night Claud." Anna answered, grabbing the skirt again and trying to decide just how to clean it up.


	3. Above Nickerson Field

AN: Sorry it took so long, I'm finally on break and can add to this. In the meantime I hope everyone enjoys this part, Anna isn't actually in it, but it brings an interesting development to the story. I'm trying to focus more on the ideas of human rights and prejudice in this story, rather than superheroes fighting bad guys, or angst. If you like, review. If you hate, you're a doo-doo head (j/k feel free to flame me I don't care anymore). Marvel owns 'em all (bastids!), but Anna, Claudia, Olivia, and John belong to me. Feel free to use 'em, just ask.

It had been three months since Hank's now infamous trip to Boston, and three years since Bobby Drake had graduated with his BS in accounting. Bobby cringed, _College_, he thought as the images of all the frat parties he'd been at and the chicks that had laughed at him resurfaced. _I hate my life._ Being an X-Man was great, he got to make lots of ice and beat up bad guys, it was being a college student that had been rough. College meant studying, getting up early, taking tests, and worst of all trying to impress women who thought you were a dweeb. College meant not getting laid. _Yup, I definitely hate my life._ Not that there was anything he could do now, he stood in the hallway outside his new dorm room trying to bring himself to open the door. _I wish I was Superman, then I'd know what I was in for._

* * * * *

__

Two months ago

Professor Xavier sat patiently at his desk waiting for someone to answer the phone, or at least find it first. That was the problem with cordless phones in a house full of twenty-something year old socialites, the receivers always seemed to vanish. By the eighth ring somebody found a phone and managed to answer it, or the person on the other end finally gave up waiting. Charles knew it must be the former when Logan came barging in, telephone in hand. "Ya know Chuck," he grinned. "This wouldn't happen if there was a phone in every room."

Xavier smiled back. "It wouldn't happen if people would stop stealing it from my study either, but I will take that under advisement." With that said he took the phone. "Charles Xavier."

After a slight bit of static another voice finally broke through. "What do you want Charles?" Valerie's voice crackled in the background.

"Valerie? Where are you, your reception is horrible." He thought he heard her snicker in the background.

"It's called a cell phone Charles, government won't spring for one of those digital phones. You wanted to talk to me?"

Charles sighed and related the story of Anna Metford to her, repeating most of it a few times so she could understand what he was saying. "I want to know if your group is involved." He finished matter of factly.

Valerie paused for a few seconds before giving him an answer. "Sorry Charles, Metford doesn't ring a bell. I'll talk to some of the boys, see what we can dig up but X-Factor isn't recruiting right now. I'll call you back tomorrow with what I find." With that she hung up, leaving Xavier thinking.

* * * * *

The next day Val had called back with a few basics: she was a registered mutant, a student at Boston University majoring in English, originally from Attleboro, MA, she was now living on campus in the dorms behind Nickerson field. This was where Bobby came in: he was the only person on the team who had a college education and wasn't obviously a mutant. Bobby could get into her classes, her dorm, even her circle of friends, if she had any, without getting caught. This was why Bobby was now standing in a murky carpeted hallway turning the key in door #349.

True to his mutant persona Bobby came to school with the clothes on his back, a few extra outfits, some personal belongings, a set of sheets, a toothbrush, and some shampoo. No mutant would be able to afford a computer or stereo, and if they could wouldn't be stupid enough to bring it for fear of it being trashed.

Bobby walked into his well-lit room expecting to see the typical male dorm room, instead what he saw surprised and sickened him. _Guess I can just forget making myself at home_. The room was spotless, immaculate, disturbing. His roommate was zombieing in front of the television so Bobby made a quick once over of the room before he was noticed. _There are curtains_, he said dismayed, _and they've been washed recently. My roommate is a mutant whose power is to keep things spotless, WONDERFUL!_ That was when Bobby felt the eyes boring holes in his back and turned around sheepishly, dropping his things on the floor, since both beds were so equally well-made he couldn't tell which one was his. "Hi!" He said, examining his room-freak while trying to sound friendly. "I'm Bobby." _Jesus, this kid is weird._ He had dirty blonde hair, parted on the side. It looked like the same haircut Bobby had when he was five. Glasses sat upon a nose that threatened to overtake the boy's entire face. Thin lips formed into a disapproving smirk. Gangly arms rested on skeletal knees, the arms hidden within a polo shirt, _PINK polo shirt_, Bobby added mentally. Khaki dress pants lifted up at the hem enough to show argyle socks stuffed into shiny black loafers.

Those tight lips parted and Bobby stood ready for a welcome when he heard the words that would seal his doom. "You didn't wipe your feet." The boy snarled, and to Bobby's complete amazement he stood and headed straight for his closet. Without saying a word he got out a can of carpet cleaner and a vacuum, spraying the white foam anywhere he so much as suspected Bobby might've stepped. "Don't step on it until I have vacuumed it up."

Now Bobby knew true fear. "That's cool." He said laughing nervously. "Uh, hey, which bed is mine?" Again those pointdexter glasses glared at him, and one bony finger pointed to the bed with the maroon comforter. "Thanks, uh…I didn't catch your name."

Room-freak sighed dramatically, just like adults used to sigh at Bobby when he was a child. That "what is wrong with you" sigh that the upper classes used so often. "I am John." He stated as if it was an insult just to utter his name in Bobby's presence.

"Cool." He muttered and sat down on his bed. Now that his stomach wasn't flip-flopping like an Olympic gymnast on speed Bobby realized he was hungry, but he didn't want to risk the wrath of room-freak, _John_, he reminded himself, by accidentally stepping in the foaming carpet cleanser. Minutes ticked by while Bobby waited until he could head down to the food court. After ten minutes he realized John was watching the Religious Channel, after fifteen he figured out that it was _Evangelize_, that new call in program that had become such a mutant hater forum recently. Bobby's stomach didn't want food anymore; it had just dropped down near his ball sack and was hiding there, while in the mean time his heart had taken residence in his ears. He knew it had to be there because all he could hear was it pounding, and one thought kept circling through Bobby's mind: _MY ROOM-MATE IS A PSYCHOPATHIC GAY MUTIE HATER!! I'M GOING TO BE KILLED IN MY SLEEP!!!!_

Finally after what seemed like an eternity psycho-room-freak vacuumed up the foam and Bobby made what he hoped didn't seem like too desperate a break for the door. He was down the hall and almost to the stairs when he ran full force into someone. "I'm SO sorry." Bobby said, reaching down to give her a hand up. She was kind of pretty in a not so normal way. _Too much black_, Bobby thought while he grabbed the messenger bag she had dropped on her way to her butt. Black eyes, black eye shadow, black lipstick, black shirt, black pants, black shoes, black nail polish…_Black eyes!_ In fact it was pretty hard to notice if you weren't looking too hard, but…yes, her irises were almost the same color as her pupils, only a faint line of gray distinguished one from the other. Now he was staring, and she had definitely noticed. "Uh…I'm Bobby." He said lamely, sticking his hand out towards her. "I'm new here." _Duh, I'm Bobby, I'm new here, I'm a fucking moron!_

Much to his relief the girl just smiled back, it was the "buddy, you are one lame duck" smile, but it was better than nothing. "Claudia." She stated, then the condescending look faltered and a more natural smile broke out. Before Bobby could even say anything she took his hand that was still hanging between them, but instead of shaking it she turned it palm upward. He watched amazed as this tiny black sphere formed and then twirled out of existence in the palm of his hand.

"That was awesome!" He laughed at her, "Claudia, that is one sweet trick." Then before he even knew what he was doing he had finished a tiny ice swan and handed it to her.

She didn't seem surprised or impressed, but looked at him intriguingly for a few seconds before stating matter of factly, "You could make a fortune if you hired yourself out to caterers." It should have been funny, but her comment was more reassuring than anything else. It meant there were mutants on campus and now they knew he existed. He had protection, but even more importantly Bobby now had found his way to locate this Anna girl and figure out what her story was. _Best of all, I can now find myself a roommate who won't try to murder me!_


	4. Mutie Central

It had been a long time since Claudia had been able to admit that she was actually having fun with somebody. Sure, the protests were great and she met a lot of people that she had a whole bunch in common with, but it was impossible to have fun with while dodging tear gas from the riot police. Bobby was fun. After their little rendezvous in the hallway she'd dragged him down to the corner McDonald's that had become Mutie Central. Bobby had gallantly offered to pay for her quarter pounder and in return she managed to finagle them a booth in a corner so they could talk. She laughed at his antics, and especially got a kick out of how he would put his fries in his Big Mac. "It all goes to the same place," he shrugged. Bobby was definitely interesting, a character.

She finished eating before him and waited patiently while he finished off his Coke. "So," she asked when he swallowed the last big gulp. "You're new here?"

He gagged a little bit then smiled. "Yah, I'm from New York, I transferred when they kicked all us mutants out of NYU." She frowned a little bit at that, Bobby wasn't the first mutant she'd run into who'd been kicked out of NYU after the President of the University instituted the new non-mutant policy. _If they want us to become useful members of society I don't know why they make it so difficult for us to get an education._ Her expression seemed to put him off a little bit. "Yah, I don't know if you heard but they kicked us all out." If she didn't know any better Claud would have sworn he was nervous.

"Yah," She sighed. "You're not the first one ta come to Boston from NYU. Fuckin' bastids!"

Bobby laughed. "You know it. Just dumped us out on the street, didn't even refund my tuition. My father was about to vent his spleen when they kept the money." He started laughing even harder, "Turned purple, screaming at the registrar. Classic." He started gulping in air, then calmed. "Hey, you know any mutant looking for a new roommate?"

The question came out of nowhere, and it took a couple seconds for Claudia to answer it. "Why, who'd you get stuck with?"

Bobby threw his arms up dramatically, "This psycho kid, John. He's got these big pointdexter glasses." Bobby demonstrated by making two circles with his fingers and putting them up to his face. "His nose is _huge_, and he dresses like he's going out to play golf with the guys from the office!" Claudia started laughing hysterically, only goading Bobby on. It wasn't that his description was all that funny, but she knew exactly who he was talking about and Bobby was completely clueless. "Get this, I walk into the room," he continued, "and the first thing he says to me isn't 'hey buddy, what's up?' he says 'you didn't wipe your feet.' Can you fuckin' believe that shit?" Tears were now starting to make their way down Claudia's face. "But seriously," Bobby said, stopping Claudia's peals of laughter as he, himself took on a serious air. "He was watching _Evangelize_, the kid's a mutie hater."

To Claudia's credit she only laughed at Bobby for five minutes straight, interrupted by the occasional "WHAT?" before she calmed back down. "So you're the kid that was gonna be moving in with John! I'll have to let him know so he can calm down." Bobby just sat there confused. "Bobby, John's weird, but he's no mutie hater. He was convinced they were sticking him with a flatscan, he was watching that shit so that you wouldn't pummel the crap out of him!" She started laughing again, "did he take out the carpet cleaner?"

"Yah, and he made me sit there till he vacuumed it up!" Bobby whined, still looking very clueless.

"That kid is...hic… priceless." She hiccuped, taking a slow sip of her soda to calm her lungs down. "John is a mutant too, Bobby." Claudia finally explained.

"So his power really is to keep things spotless!" Bobby moaned, banging his head against the table. "I'm doomed!"

"No!" Claudia laughed. "John is a dirt magnet, literally. If there is dirt or dust anywhere around it sticks to him." Then she started laughing harder. "We…ha-ha…call him…HA…mud-man." She squeaked, then calmed herself down again. "That's why everything is so clean." Claud then added seriously, "He dusts about twice a day, vacuums twice a day, and washes the curtains and sheets three times a week. But he really is a nice kid once you get to know him. Just keep in mind that tracking in dirt is forbidden."

"I'll remember that." Bobby said looking thoughtfully at the ceiling for a few seconds before looking back at her. "Well Claud, it's been fun, but I've got books to buy and a registrar to engage in battle with so if you'll excuse me."

"Certainly." Claud smiled, and with that Bobby stood and went out the door. _Yeah, Bobby is one smooth character. I'll have to bump into him more often._

* * * * *

Dr. McCoy sat marveling at how fate seemed to have a problem with him. Just as he was getting ready to pour a mixture of hydrochloric acid and water into a new beaker the lab phone rang, making the good doctor jump and pour some of it on himself instead. Now he sat on a stool by his desk, nursing a burn the size of a quarter where no hair would ever grow again, and attempting to understand what Bobby was talking about.

"You see Hank!" Bobby shouted at him from the pay phone he was using, "all the mutants here seem to know one another. Finding this Anna whatchamacallit should be easy now that Claudia knows I'm a mutant."

"Metford." Hank stated casually, making the first comment he'd been able to get in since the first "hello."

"Wha?" Bobby asked, so caught up in his story that he hadn't been able to register what Hank was talking about.

"Bobby, the woman's last name is Metford, Anna Metford." Hank let out an audible sigh. He'd known sending Bobby was a mistake, he loved his friend dearly of course, but Bobby was too rambunctious when let out on his own. Without somebody to keep him on track it was entirely possible that Bobby would forget about Anna completely, and without Bobby calling in to give them updates there was no way to know what was going on. They couldn't exactly call his room, what if he wasn't there and his roommate answered? It wasn't very secretive to leave a message, "yes could have Bobby call the Xavier Institute as soon as he gets in." Why not just say, "yes, could you tell Bobby that there is an emergency and his X-Men friends need his help." The simple fact that it was Bobby that this was depending on made Hank nervous; not to mention that Scott had very nearly had two nervous breakdowns over this since Bobby left. "Really Bobby, if you are not even able to recall the last name of the particular female you have been sent to retrieve how do you adjudge completing said mission."

"Come on Hank!" Bobby whined back. "I'm payin' for this stinkin' call, and your big words take up too much air time. Spit it out."

"Bobby, if you can't remember her name how are you going to find her?" Hank said exasperated. "Is that satisfactory?"

"Yup." Bobby said. "Don't worry Hank, Metford, Anna Metford. I got it. I'll call ya back sometime tomorrow. Bye Hank."

"Good luck Bobby." Hank replied to a dial tone, then returned his attention to his burn. "I wonder if perhaps once this heals, blue magic-marker might remedy my unfortunate situation."

* * * * *

Anna sat on the floor, trying desperately to catch her breath. She couldn't get that phone call out of her head:

"Hello?"

"Is Anna there?" an insidious voice asked.

"No," she said, the tone in that voice making her shiver. "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."

"I know it's you Anna." The voice whispered. "I know where you are, we're coming for you."

It was something out a teen horror movie, but this was real. She was so scared that she had slammed the phone on the hook and just sat there, unmoving, eyes just staring at the phone as if it might ring again.

The door opened, Anna didn't bother turning around, she just screamed, and screamed. Her body started to feel tingly then it burned, making the scream louder. The room shivered, convulsed. Light bulbs burst in unison, one loud pop. "Jesus fuckin' Christ Annie!" Somebody shouted from the door. "Chill dude, chill!"

Finally the scream faded and Annie turned to see Claudia standing in the doorway. "Claud?" She whispered, her throat hoarse from the raw screams it had let loose moments earlier.

"Yah," Claud answered, her voice nervously quaking. "Annie, what the fuck happened?"

Anna looked back at the phone. "I got a phone call." She said. "It was them. They said they were coming to get me."

"Oh Christ Annie." Claudia shook her head, and went over to the window shade, closing it so nobody on Babcock Street below could see what was going on in the room. "Annie, we gotta get you out of here, this is starting to get too weird, too freaky."

Just as Claudia finished her sentence someone started pounding on the door. "I'll get it." Claud whispered, Anna whimpered in response and hid herself behind one of the desks. Grabbing a baseball bat from the corner, Claudia opened the door and swung. "BOBBY!" She shrieked when it registered who was now lying sprawled out on their floor.

"Ow." Came the muffled response from the floor. "Claud we've got to stop meeting like this."

Within an instant Claudia dragged the rest of Bobby through the door and slammed it, locking it. "What are you doing here Bobby?" Claud asked menacingly, pointing the baseball bat at him.

"I heard someone scream." Bobby muttered, rubbing his sore head. "I was on my way back to my room. I figured fighting off a mass murderer would be more pleasant than making conversation with John, so I came to find out who was screaming." It was then that Bobby started to notice the broken glass all over the floor from the light bulbs. "What happened in here anyway?"

Claudia shifted her weight, conveniently blocking Bobby's view of Anna. "Must've been some kind of surge." Claudia shrugged. "I screamed when the lights burst, scared the ever-living shit out of me."

"Oh." Bobby answered. "Need any help cleaning this all up?" He offered, noticing now that Claudia was definitely trying to hide something.

"No thanks." She smiled, turning him towards the door. "I got it."

"But," Bobby protested, "I can help you clean it all up before your roommate gets back."

"I said I got it." Claudia said, getting frustrated now. She had him just at the door when Bobby twisted away from her and got over to the desk where Anna was still hiding.

"Well, what have we here?" He said in shock, as Anna slowly crawled out from her hiding place, Claudia fuming behind him. "Hi, I'm Bobby." He said putting out his hand. "I don't believe we've met, are you Claud's little sister visiting?"

To his disappointment she didn't take his hand, but she did answer him. "I'm Claud's roommate." The girl, who couldn't have been more than 4'8" answered sharply. "Anna Metford, and no we haven't met Mr…?"

"Drake." Bobby answered smiling. "Ms. Metford, don't take this the wrong way, but I've been looking everywhere for you. Now you're coming with me…"

Bobby never had a chance to finish his sentence, if he had it would have ended with "to the Xavier Institute." But instead it was finished with an "ugh" as Claudia's baseball bat connected solidly with the back of his skull.


End file.
